


In the Shadow of Your Heart

by Vailen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alternate Universe - Doctors, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Casual Sex, Characters may be a bit out of character, Derek and Jackson are werewolves, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Dubious Morality, Infidelity, M/M, Past Abuse, Pretty much everyone is in the medical field except Stiles and Lydia, Scott's just a vet, background Jydia, background Kate/Derek - Freeform, branding (past), past Kate/Derek, they aren't really understood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vailen/pseuds/Vailen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an escort, an expensive one that doubles as a prostitute. But somtimes he falls completely off the rails due to drug addiction. Derek is a doctor, and also the dean of medicine at his hospital. He's socially inept for the most part, but broke he is not. Stiles eventually picks up on these two things after seeing Derek on several occasions. Neither of them planned on ever really getting to know each other, but that doesn't keep them from sleeping with each other. Fate would just have it that Stiles' health keeps him in Derek's life. But for how long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be adding tags as I continue. Just be warned, this isn't all that happy of a story, but there is likely a happy ending. There's a lot of not-good going on during the course. There's more going on with the relationships but I can't list without giving things away. But it's all platonic. 
> 
> For the sake of not sounding exceedingly ignorant, I've left ages out. Just know Jackson and Lydia are younger than their degrees imply, and the canon teens (Scott, Stiles, Jackson, Erica, Lydia, etc.) may have 1 to 2 year age differences.
> 
> This is actually my first fanfiction, and the first time I've written in a long time outside of RP purposes. Any errors are my own.
> 
> Title is a line from Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine

_There's that werewolf again._ Stiles looked up from his martini, listening to his client babble on about something medical that he hardly understood. He still managed to ask a question on cue, even though he was barely paying attention. Stiles was much more concerned with the man he continued to see at every fundraiser and event at this hospital like today, always alone. The good thing about being an escort with mostly doctors and surgeons as his clientele was the familiarity--also, if he decided to actually go back to nursing school he'd have a ton of medical jargon already collected in his head--but he never spoke to this one. In fact, he's never even heard him _speak_ , which was quite amazing to Stiles.

But Jackson knew him. Jackson, his former classmate and a guy he was pretty sure hated his guts in a brotherly way. Stiles had always been surprised that Jackson went to school to be an oncologist. He didn't think the blond jerk was capable of being sensitive and caring enough. So maybe this guy was also an oncologist. He and Jackson both happened to be close to the bar, and from the looks of things conversing amiably. "Hey, the waiter is taking forever to come back. Do you want another drink?" Stiles smiled as he talked, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him instead of sticking to his client's side like glue. Once he received a positive answer, Stiles picked up both of their glasses and walked off towards the bar.

Stiles had been an escort for eight years now, was able to make an awkward situation relaxed and normally had social nerves of steel due to practice, but now he felt like he was on his first date in his beat up Jeep. Stiles attempted to go for casual, walking over and practically ignoring them both as he set the glasses on the bar and asked for two beers. His next move was to look over and greet Jackson, but broody and handsome was practically boring holes into him with his stare; Stiles tongue became tied in knots in the back of his throat, unable to speak as he felt like captured prey. It didn't take long for Jackson to turn around and notice Stiles, looking back and forth between him and his colleague before his features curled into a disgruntled grimace. "Did you two have sex or something when I wasn't looking?"

Stiles jaw dropped as broody quirked an eyebrow. He had some serious eyebrow game, Stiles noticed passively. "I don't know him. I'll catch you in a bit." Broody took a sip of his drink before turning and walking off.

"Do I smell or something?" Stiles managed to stammer out as he watched broody and handsome walk away.

Jackson grinned and patted Stiles on the shoulder. "You smell like you walked out of the high school locker room."

"I swear to God, did lycanthropy make you less of a dickhead? Because I think you would have said something worth getting upset over in high school." Stiles pried Jackson's fingers off his shoulder, bristling slightly as the bartender set down the beers on the counter. "Who was that, anyway?"

"Whatever. You managed to run off my boss and alpha."

Stiles squinted slightly. "You really have a boss?"

Jackson rolled his eyes and picked up one of the beers, tipping his head back and taking a long swig before setting the now half-empty bottle back down on the counter. "The dean, you idiot. He's the head of the hospital." Stiles nodded a few times, Jackson continuing to stare at him, seemingly frustrated. What did he want, some type of great acknowledgement? "Derek Hale?"

Now _that_ got a reaction. Stiles' lips curled up as he muttered a barely audible, "Oh." He wasn't sure how that managed to slip past him. He kind of knew about Derek, had seen him several times when he was younger. He was surprised with himself that he didn't recognise those eyebrows. But his curiosity would have to be sated later. Stiles picked up both beers, glaring halfheartedly at Jackson for downing half of his. "We," Stiles pointed at himself and at Jackson with one of the bottles repeatedly. "We're talking about this later. Right now, Paris--"

"Pannish."

"Whatever, Pannish is waiting over there for me. So, later." Stiles smiled and turned to walk away, Jackson waving after him. Unfortunately, the subject of Derek Hale was a can of worms and gossip that he couldn't open while he was on the clock. Besides, Mark was probably thirsty and not nearly drunk enough to tip Stiles big at the end of the night, sex or no sex.

\---  
"The curious case of Derek Hale." Stiles knew this had nothing to do with the story, but still, the entire ordeal was curious. It was a few days after the fundraiser event, and Stiles _needed_ to understand this guy. He knew the general gist of the situation because his father was the deputy at the time who covered the case, but the official knowledge all seemed to have holes that left him curious.

"God, Stiles, shut up." Jackson sipped his milkshake, Lydia pinching his thigh and causing him to snort some of the shake. He coughed several times before speaking again, Stiles grinning at Lydia. "Why are you like the only one that doesn't know about him?"

"I don't, either." Scott raised his hand as he inhaled his milkshake from his straw, barely avoiding smacking Stiles in the face from being tightly packed into the diner seats. Stiles never figured out why Lydia and the eighty other people in the diner liked it here. The booths were pretty small.

"Because you're a vet, Scott. You didn't study human medicine." Lydia retorted. "Even Greenberg knows, and Greenberg's just in the clinic almost every day."

"Lydia, you're not in medicine." Stiles stuffed his mouth with several fries as she turned her gaze towards him, pursing her lips.

"That's beside the point. Anyway, Jackson. Story."

"Wait, I do know a bit, but it doesn't make much sense. His girlfriend supposedly killed his family except his sister or something, right? She wasn't convicted though." Jackson looked about ready to toss his shake at Stiles for wasting his time. "Hey, hey, there has got to be more to it than that. Like who did it, why, what happened to his girlfriend and why did they think it was her if it wasn't?"

Lydia shoved Jackson's straw back into his mouth before he could respond. _Ah, married couples._ Stiles refrained from laughing as she began to speak. "It's his alpha, he's sensitive about him. She definitely did it, she's just a brainwashing psycho and convinced him otherwise. He's one sick puppy, for sure. His girlfriend is is now his fiancée, though it doesn't look like they're ever getting married. They've been engaged longer than we've been married."

Stiles frowned as he listened. One generally didn't kill the family of someone they loved, even if they were megalomaniacal bastards. He came to one conclusion. "Your alpha is odd and an idiot. His fiancée will most likely murder him in his sleep." Stiles set a few bills on the table as he slid out from his seat awkwardly. "I'd love to stay and watch you abuse your husband," Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles, Scott happily stealing the rest of his fries. "But I've got errands to run. People to see. The night is young and all of that." Stiles winked as he headed out, Jackson eyeing him oddly as Scott and Lydia said goodbye and he walked out. He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked to his old Jeep, the vehicle still going strong after ten years of his abuse. He loved his friends but they also had a way of prying in for information he didn't want to give about his life right now. He clambered into the driver's seat and shut the door, turning the engine and driving out of the parking lot. He remembered halfway down the street to buckle his seatbelt, continuing the car ride home with restless tapping against the steering wheel and a few yawns.

Stiles really hadn't planned to smoke a bowl as soon as he got into his apartment, but Liam had apparently broke in and left a hefty package of meth he cooked recently on his coffee table. "After raiding the fridge and medicine cabinet, of course," Stiles noted as he opened the fridge for a bottle of water to find the shelves mostly empty. He knew he shouldn't have sat on the couch to finish the bottle, but he did it anyway, eyeing the box every few sips of water. He idly removed his over shirt as he sat, convincing himself that he wasn't eyeing the box, that he wasn't prone to what was inside.

Stiles leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as his hands swept over his face several times. He stopped for good this time, and he could stay clean this time. He didn't _need_ it, he was happy enough without it, okay, he always was. It was just a temporary thing, a stimulant with a few euphoric side effects that helped him get through a shitty time in high school and the long nights of streetwalking followed by early morning organic chemistry--

Stiles grabbed the box and headed into this bedroom, shutting the door as if it would keep the universe out. "One last time."  
\--  
Stiles set the lighter down on the nightstand, taking the last puff from his pipe as he reclined against the headboard, head tilted back and keeping his gaze towards the ceiling. It had been a few months since he had felt this good. He should really stop trying to bury the pipe and just embrace it. Stiles could be careful enough, stay in control and it wouldn't kill him. Yeah, he could do this. His eyes felt a little glazed, but he felt more awake and focused.

Jackson wasn't really helpful when it came to Derek. Technically the only person that would be helpful about Derek was Derek. "Yeah, I'll totally just walk into his office. 'Hey man, why are you marrying the psycho bitch that murdered your family? I'm sure your sister isn't too happy about that, yeah?'" Stiles chuckled, setting the pipe down on his nightstand before rolling over onto his stomach. Actually, his sister could be of some help. But even high he realised it would be stupid to stir up bad memories for the woman just because he was idiotically curious. Yes, he wanted to have the entire thing sorted into a neat little package in his mind so he could put it to rest, but it really wasn't his business, was it? He didn't work with Derek, didn't work for Derek. Hell, he wouldn't have known it was Derek if Jackson hadn't mentioned it.

Maybe it was the way Stiles felt like prey pinned to the ground when Derek stared at him. He couldn't get that out of his mind. It wasn't just the fact that Derek was a werewolf that did it; Jackson could stare at him all day and the most that would happen is Stiles would either laugh or punch the guy. It didn't really matter how he felt, it was more important as to why. Was it a scare tactic? Derek had to have enough reasons to keep people away, especially if he was engaged to the woman that killed his family. Or maybe he just recognised Stiles. That was the lowest idea on his list; recognising Stiles would mean he still held some resemblance to the short, awkward child he had been, complete with chubby cheeks. Or that he still looked gangly and awkward like he had in high school, minus the buzzcut. No, he was much more attractive than that no, and he knew it, knew it since his junior year of high school. And it was easy to prove it to himself, too.

Stiles pulled his wrist from under his head and looked at his watch. It was 1 am, prime time for picking up johns a town or two away where his boss wouldn't find out about it. It wouldn't hurt to have the extra money, either. Stiles bit his lip and rolled onto his back. There was still a possibility his boss could find out. Supposedly she drove around every now and then to make sure her employees were keeping clean and classy. Fuck it, why the hell not? He wanted sex. How he got said sex really wasn't her business. Stiles hopped out of bed and stripped, changing into something a little less college and a lot more whore. He made sure to grab several packets of condoms and lube before leaving his room and apartment with a little extra pep in his step, locking the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Several months later, Winter_

 

Things had gotten rough the last few months, because Stiles was an idiot. He was really well aware of the fact, but sometimes he liked to believe his intelligence also made him smart. Stiles managed to run himself broke because he picked up the pipe again. At first it was simple things, like arriving late to an appointment here and there because he was too high to be seen with a client, or too wrecked from spending all night on the street higher than a kite. Some days he just didn't care to be on time. Those things he could handle. His clients enjoyed him enough that it wasn't an issue at all.

One night, he smoked a bit too much, fell a little too hard after. It made him binge for a while, up until he almost lost his job from missing his appointments so much. His clients were not happy. Stiles was certain he could placate most of his clients with a free night and could keep them if he was fired, but he preferred the stability of working for an agency. He didn't want to lose it. So he got his shit together, lowered his dose a bit--it was an agonising experience, almost as bad as getting clean for him. But he had it under control again. He could smoke every now and again and feel okay. It was like he said, he didn't need the shit, it was just nice to have sometimes. It was the old raggedy sweater or blanket that many people kept just to have as a comfort.

Then he ran out. The box was empty, the well was dry. Liam was nowhere to be found to bargain and trade with. It only took two days for Stiles to feel absolutely lost and royally fucked without his fix. It took enough of a hold of him that whenever he had the opportunity, he bought crystal, even when his small box was full. It's not like he was saving any of this money for anything really, anyway.

Except his rent. Bills. His groceries that started disappearing once Liam decided to exist in Stiles' tiny universe again. It wasn't too bad at first; as long as he was high, he wasn't hungry. He only had to be sober for work, anyway. He was absolutely wrecked for each date, but he managed to make sure they didn't end in disaster and was well fed. Stiles was able to coast for a while without too much trouble, up until his bills arrived and he couldn't pay a single one, including his rent.

Again, he was fucked. Even high, Stiles realised that. He set out to quickly remedy the situation. He finished his bowl, grabbed his hoodie and headed out to find a few johns. He could make at least a thousand bucks easily on a slow night, even in the snow.

Stiles didn't realise the county was on blizzard watch, however. By the time he made it one town over--desperation made him ditch his rules--he was already being blinded by the snow. At two hours in, he still hadn't made a buck and he was freezing his ass off. He was prepared to flaunt even in this shit weather that was getting unceasingly worse, but there was no one to flaunt to.

Again, he was fucked. It was beginning to bother him that he wasn't the good kind of fucked, too. Stiles wished for a moment that he had been in his right mind before he went out. No one in their right mind would have left the house when there were three weather warning messages on their phone. Stiles was an idiot. He spent 3 years in college hoping for a blizzard and several days locked in his dorm, to finish papers and to binge on video games. Luck would have it that the one day he needs the weather to be decent, it was horrid.

While Stiles continued to mentally berate himself, he eyed the first car he had seen all night. It slid down the street at a snail's pace, only seeming suspicious once it stopped too long at a stop sign. Was he going to get lucky? Or was it just his boss ready to rip him a new asshole? He doubted it was his boss; the car was one of those roomy SUV hatchbacks that moms seemed to be driving lately.

_Great, does some old woman think I need a ride home,_ Stiles thought absently as the car began to reverse down the road towards him, practically parking in front of him. He still looked like he was a college freshman most days, so it was easy for him to forget that he was at the age to "acceptably" have kids now, even if he was too irresponsible. Maybe he could convince the lady that he would go down better on her than her husband--

"Stiles," Stiles looked up as the sound of his name being called shook him from his short reverie. The passenger side window was rolled down, Derek Hale in the driver's seat. Stiles arched a brow as he approached the car with a timid shuffle. He really wasn't expecting that, on multiple levels. But it couldn't hurt to chat a moment. And if he got in the car and swindled the fuck out of him with elevated prices, he wouldn't know it. Besides, Stiles was worth any price, at least in mind at the moment. The fact that Jackson was probably bound to find out about it wasn't something that Stiles was concerned with; he wasn't his daddy.

His tongue felt slightly less tied up this time, lucky for him. "Hey, eyebrows. Where'd you hear my name?"

Derek's eyebrow moved a fraction before he spoke. "Jackson told me. It's literally freezing and still snowing, what are you doing out here?"

"For the right price, I could divulge that information." Derek stared at him, Stiles blinking repeatedly as he attempted to stare back. A few moments of silence passed, and Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly, his ears burning as he felt slightly embarrassed. He really wasn't expecting that. "Or not," he muttered and looked away. Time to take another route.

Before he could speak again, Derek was unlocking the door and leaning back into his seat. "Get in."

Stiles continued to lean on the door, his eyebrows drawing together. He wasn't quite following the chain of events here. "Seriously?" He was high, maybe he was hearing things.

"Get. In." The sternness was clear as day, which made him debate running instead of going in. What if Derek turned out to be an axe murderer or something after losing his family? (Never mind the fact that he had claws and teeth to kill him with, he could totally still use an axe. Totally.) Stiles decided he was pretty much dead if he couldn't pay his rent anyway, so he opened the door and quickly climbed in, Derek closing the window as Stiles buckled up. Derek pulled away from the curb a few seconds later, driving at the previous snail's pace Stiles observed before. Derek was quiet except for the sound of his breathing, which Stiles found slightly disturbing but expected. The only time Derek seemed to be social was around Jackson.

"So," Stiles began, shifting slightly in his seat as he noticed they were leaving town, not headed towards a motel. "It's probably better to discuss prices before you get all hot and bothered." And before he attempted to rip out Stiles' throat during sex accidentally by getting too bitey.

"I'm not going to get hot and bothered. I'm taking you to my home where you can sleep off whatever the hell you're on in a guest room."

Stiles looked over at him, head tilted slightly as looking quickly became staring and gawking. This had to be some kind of joke. "No, no, I don't think you understand. I need money, not a place to sleep. I have that." He continued to drive, making a right onto a narrower street as Stiles continued to speak, flustered. "I can easily walk back to my Jeep and drive back to my apartment. That's seriously not the kind of handout I need. I have shit to pay, okay... Are you even listening to me?"

There was a short pause before Derek answered. "No."

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling his happy buzz begin to drop. Maybe his high was leaving, but he wanted to believe it was broody eyebrows killing it. "Dude, stop the car. I don't need this."

"You're not a hooker." There was another pause, Derek exhaling a deep breath. " I find that very hard to believe."

Right, as if he knew Stiles at all. Stiles wasn't sure if he should be offended or thankful for that. But either way, he still needed money. "Well, you'd be right. I have a normal enough job. I do this for fun and when I'm broke. _I'm broke._ And fun isn't completely out of the equation but I'd bone an old fart at this point I'm so broke." Stiles paused, sitting back with a sigh. "Again with the not listening."

"I figure there's no point if you're trying to convince me to drive back to your corner." Derek pulled into an empty driveway, Stiles groaning internally. How could this go so wrong? He could still attempt to swindle Derek but the man was engaged, even if it was to a psychotic witch. Stiles sat still petulantly as Derek parked and turned off the car, crossed his arms, furrowed his bro and bit his lip as Derek climbed out of the car and closed his door. Maybe if he waited long enough, Derek would just leave and he could hazard his way back to his Jeep. It couldn't have been too far of a walk.

With the windshield wipers off, Stiles quickly lost sight of Derek as he sat and waited. It was maybe a whole two minutes before Derek opened the door, leaning in slightly. "Are you seriously going to wait out here, or are you going to come in where you can get dry and attempt to get warm?"

It was only then that Stiles noticed the shiver in his own hands. _God fucking dammit._ Stiles unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out, groaning softly as the snow felt like fire against his cheeks while he followed Derek to the front door. "I'll come in and whatever you want, but I still need to get paid for this. I don't care if you don't want sex, you took me. There's a fee."

"Right, I'm going to pay you for allowing me to be nice to you and make sure your scrawny ass doesn't die from hypothermia tonight while you're high as a kite. Sounds like a done deal." Stiles glared at the back of Derek's head as Derek opened the door.

He may be an idiot, but he was going to get his damned money. "Apparently you have some type of hero complex or just have a need to fix things. So yeah, I'm doing you a favour. Try to be the knight to my helpless damsel or whatever." Stiles paused as Derek walked in, shuffling in behind him and looking over the entryway with quick glances around himself before settling his eyes back on Derek as he removed his coat. The place was huge, sparsely decorated but everything looked high quality and very clean. Loaded with money started to seem like the wrong term, a severe understatement. "Which," Stiles began again, cautiously. "Saving the damsel could involve money. Just putting that out there."

Derek kicked off his boots onto the rug they stood on, arching an eyebrow as he stared back at Stiles. "Shoes, off. Probably the hoodie, too, but it can wait." Stiles made a disgruntled noise, Derek turning to head upstairs. "Come up when you're done."

Stiles rolled his eyes, hopping on one foot as he pulled off his sneakers with a grunt. Why was he doing this? He could just walk out right now, Derek was unlikely to stop him if he was that opposed. Or was he really being held hostage in some way? Stiles shook his head as he removed his hoodie, sighing as he hung the wet cloth on an available hook. It was a ridiculous thought. He could stay. It was warm, he was cold and hungry. He didn't know how to get back to his Jeep, or where he even was. It was better to be able to work another day than freeze to death in a blizzard.

Stiles shook his ankles before heading up the stairs, turning his head left and right as he looked around more. He wouldn't be surprised if everything was wood and marble. He tapped his fingers across the railing and banister, following the direction he saw Derek walk. Stiles poked his nose into one of the open rooms and leaned against the door frame, watching Derek shuffle through a chest of drawers for several moments before pulling out a flannel set. "It'll be too big, but it's the smallest and warmest I have at the moment." He shut the drawer with a gentle push of his arm, walking over to Stiles and handing him the clothes.

"Uh, that's cool. You really don't have to do all of this." Stiles shuffled in place awkwardly as he took the clothes, Derek pointing behind him with a quick jerk and tilt of his head. Stiles turned and walked into the guest room, biting his lip as he stared at the bed; it looked really fucking comfortable.

"I'll just," Derek pointed behind himself with his thumb. "Be across the hall."

Stiles looked back at him and nodded with a smile. He muttered a thanks before Derek left and shut the door behind himself, Stiles quickly stripping into the flannels and hopping onto the bed with a soft groan. It felt like he hadn't slept nor relaxed in days. He was still broke and feeling idiotic, but hell. Warm, comfy bed. Stiles nuzzled into the pillow, sighing. Maybe he could be lucky enough to sleep soundly. He'd figure out something in a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be sex next chapter, sorrynotsorry. No promises though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to be so long. 
> 
> Kudos and feedback are very much appreciated.
> 
> The infidelity is dubious at best. I don't consider it infidelity but I figure it could put a sour taste in others' mouths.

Stiles was wired.

He tossed and turned for over an hour after Derek left before giving up on sleep. _Fucking drugs_ , he complained internally, rolling onto his back once more and staring at the ceiling. “Pretty lamp,” he mumbled to himself, fixating on the dual cylinder for a moment as he folded his arms under his head. He never really could sleep in different places on a whim. He always needed to be completely exhausted or needed something from his bed, like a pillow or his blanket. It was one reason he didn't spend the entire night at a client's home. Also, the werewolf variety tended to get a wee bit attached and weird when he did, so he avoided it at as much as possible.

Stiles turned his sight to the window to his left. It was still snowing, ridiculously sized flakes hitting the window and continuing to pile up on the small ledge. He really was lucky to have been tricked and coerced into coming here. But still, werewolf. It didn't make him too afraid, but what if Derek wasn't in control? He could have Stiles for breakfast. Stiles rarely even went home with a werewolf on a first encounter because they could be volatile. He was never sure if that was because of how society treated most of them or if it was the general nature of the beast. He figured sleeping with enough of them gave him a decent handle on werewolves, plus living most of 3 years with Jackson as a werewolf didn't hurt. With that knowledge, he decided it wasn't too much of a risk, no more than streetwalking in a blizzard anyway. He rolled his eyes and sighed, rolling over so that his back was to the window. The snow only managed to remind him of of how much of an idiot he was. He should be enjoying the comfy bed, not regretting his life choices.

Stiles barely heard the footsteps outside the door before there was a soft knock. He sat up and moved to sit at the edge of the bed. "Yeah?" Derek opened the door, leaning on the door frame and crossing his arms. "You're still up?"

He smiled softly and nodded. "I can practically hear you thinking, it's keeping me up." Stiles groaned and flopped back onto the bed, his forearm covering his forehead and eyes. "I was joking, kind of. You're alright?"

"I'm thinking about my horrible life choices. I would be an ice pop right now if you didn't come around. I'm an idiot." Stiles sat up, only now noticing the uncovered expanse of Derek's chest. He really wanted to touch those abs. "I, uh, also won't be able to sleep until I'm really exhausted since I'm not at home. I'm a bit of an insomniac as it is."

"You're not an idiot. But you definitely weren't thinking straight. We're probably going to be snowed in for a day or two. It's pretty bad out there." Derek stepped into the room, lowering his arms as he moved to the window.

Stiles watched him move across the room, eyeing the familiar triskele brand on the back of Derek's neck. It was how he knew Derek was a werewolf before knowing he was Derek Hale. Glancing further south, he stared at the triskele tattoo between his shoulder blades with furrowed eyebrows; that was unusual and kind of unnecessary with the brand. It took him a moment to completely register what Derek had said. "What? That's the entire weekend. I can't stay here that long."

"It's only a guess. It's still snowing and it's two feet high already." Stiles sighed and flopped back again. He couldn't spend a weekend staring at those abs. Not unless he was licking them or humping them. Which really wasn't the best line of thought around the werewolf. "Look at the bright side," he continued, turning around to face Stiles again. "You're not turning into a popisicle out there, and you're pretty lucid."

Stiles looked back over, his eyes set firmly on Derek's waist and how low his pants sat. It made him wonder if he'd be seeing more skin any time soon. He cursed internally as he felt his stomach flop with mild arousal, managing to look the rest of the way up to find Derek's eyebrows drawing close. "I'm grateful, really." He sat up again, turning to slide off the bed onto his feet and stand beside the werewolf. It left a few feet between him and Derek, and left him at eye level. "I just complain a lot when I'm not working. It's a bad habit."

"Don't worry about it." They were quiet a moment, Stiles noticing his nostrils flaring slightly. Stiles felt like he might die of embarrassment. He noticed his arousal, didn't he? "I," Derek began again, lips pursing for a moment. "I kind of lied earlier."

Stiles tipped his head slightly, frowning as he glanced at Derek. "Uh, about what? You're not going to kill me like some psycho, right?"

One side of Derek's lips curled slightly in amusement, but quickly straightened again. "No, nothing like that. Jackson has spoken about you in passing, but I remembered you. From when I was a teen." Stiles' frown softened into a smile. It made him wonder if there was an inkling of his old awkward self still in his appearance, but it didn't matter too much. Knowing that he was recognised and not completely ignored warmed his chest a bit. "Back then you were just the annoying son of the deputy, but I appreciated it later, having something else to focus on."

"Yeah," Stiles lifted his arm to rub the back of his neck nervously, his eyes flitting down to stare at his own feet. "Thinking about that now is a bit embarrassing. I was more than a little annoying and awkwardly hyperactive. I try to believe I'm not really the same as that anymore."

"You'll always share something with your past. But it was your scent I recognised more than your looks."

"You remember a scent from sixteen years ago?" It seemed the most ridiculous thing, but Stiles wanted to kiss him for it. He had grown from his position of being a popular reject (which was totally a thing for teenagers) and he no longer needed that kind of reassurance for his self-esteem. But it went a long way in making him like the guy a bit more.

Derek rubbed his jaw with a few fingers after crossing an arm over his chest. "...More or less." Derek exhaled deeply, almost sighing as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Anyway, I should try sleeping again. Good luck with that yourself." As he turned to walk away, Stiles reached out to take hold of his arm, preventing him from leaving. It wasn't exactly a smart move, to say the least, but he didn't really want Derek to leave. He would just spend the next 8 or so hours staring at the ceiling until he managed to pass out. Derek turned back to him, his eyebrows rising a bit in expectation. "What is it?"

Biting his lip, Stiles leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth, his beard coarse against Stiles' lips. He didn't really have to look to know his eyebrows were drawn together again. "Uh, thanks. For this. Hero complex or not, you didn't have to. I could be stuck in a dingy motel with a slob after having miserable sex, but instead I'm here, safe, clean and warm."

A number of expressions passed over Derek's face in a mere two seconds before he spoke, none of which Stiles could really pin down. "Are you still high?"

The question caught Stiles off guard. "What? No." Almost instantly, Derek was crowding his space, kissing him with a firm press of his lips. It was unexpected, and it took him a bit to respond. Before Derek could pull away, Stiles tugged him closer by his waist, his mouth sliding open to allow his tongue to trail along Derek's lips. Kissing him was a pleasant surprise, soft lips surrounded by scruffy beard that rubbed his skin nicely. His tongue pushed past Derek's lips, flicking into his mouth and smoothly tracing his teeth. Should he stop this at a kiss? The doctor was supposed to be getting married at some point, and what if his fiancée showed up? Still, sex was technically his intent for coming here, even if it didn't work out that way. Stiles was beginning to care less about the money and care more about the touch. With Derek's hands slowly skimming under his shirt and stroking the small of his back, it was getting hard to think at all.

Derek pulled back from this kiss slightly, his lips grazing Stiles' as he spoke softly. "Stop thinking so much." He pressed forward again, tugging Stiles' bottom lip between his teeth as he turned them slightly.

Stiles allowed his body to fall back onto the bed, pushing himself back slightly. He looked down at his knees, his tongue flicking out to quickly lick his own lips before biting them. "What about..." He waved his hand around, as if that would clear up his words without him having to say more.

Derek stopped in his movement, an eyebrow rising in question. "About?"

Stiles hesitated, biting his bottom lip again. "You have a fiancée right?"

Derek rolled his eyes, his knees planting between Stiles' spread legs as he moved onto the bed. "We're separated." He caught Stiles lips with his own again before he could speak again, Stiles moaning against his lips as he was pushed down against the bed.

Stiles only managed to break away from the kiss when Derek began to press kisses down his jaw. "I don't think that's the technical term for that?" Derek huffed a chuckle as his lips travelled down Stiles' neck, his tongue quickly getting in on the action. Shivering, Stiles placed a hand on Derek's shoulder, unsure if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away to talk. He was really out of practice when it came to a casual encounter. "Does that mean you two aren't seeing each other and the thing is called off or? Hey, teeth!" Stiles pushed his shoulder slightly at the feel of Derek's teeth against his skin. "You're not turning me with any accidental fang action."

Derek pulled back, staring down Stiles with what was probably supposed to be a nonthreatening glare. Stiles stared at his eyebrows, imagining they were alive to remain relaxed beneath Derek's weight. Being under the werewolf's glare shouldn't be as arousing as it was. "Should I stop?"

Stiles thought about it. He really did, even if it took less than two seconds for him to respond. "No! No, we're good. Unless you want to stop, then yeah, that's... That's good, too." Stiles trailed off as Derek leaned back in to lick a trail up Stiles' neck and along the shell of his ear, causing him to tremble. Morality be damned, he wanted. And that was enough for him. Stiles slid his hands along Derek's spine slowly, his fingers tracing the brand on his neck. Shuddering, Derek sat up again, tugging Stiles' shirt open with quick jerks of his wrist. Stiles could almost swear he saw his eyes glow red, but brushed it off, instead slipping his hands beneath the waistband of Derek's. He licked his lips under Derek's gaze, wanting to squirm under his scrutiny. It mostly just made him hard. "Gonna keep staring?"

Derek's smirk was a bit unnerving. "Maybe. Seems to be doing it for you." Stiles felt his cheeks flush deeply as Derek's lips remained curled and tugged his pants down around his thighs. Derek wiggled back and tugged off his own pants, quickly pulling off Stiles' pants by the ankles before pressing close again. Stiles yelped as he was lifted up, his thighs and arms wrapping tightly around Derek as he shuffled towards the headboard on his knees. He was set down quickly, Derek's hands cupping his cheeks as he leaned in to kiss him deeply again. Stiles slid his hands down the muscled planes of Derek's back, a sigh leaving his lips as he rolled his hips up and rubbed his length against Derek's abs. Just as Stiles' hands moved to squeeze his ass, Derek began sliding down between his knees and kissing his way south, his tongue flicking out to join his lips around Stiles' nipple.

Groaning, Stiles fisted Derek's hair and arched his back as Derek sucked hard, one of his hands tracing circles lightly against his other nipple before pinching roughly. He felt no shame as he grinded his hips again, his cock rubbing wetly against Derek. His nipples were sensitive from time to time, but it felt like the dial was turned up to 100 now. Stiles attempted to speak as Derek's tongue circled around the tightened bud of Stiles' nipple, the human panting lightly. "You should really, really move on unless you want me cumming in a few seconds." His body quivered at the look Derek gave him, his body jerking up against the werewolf as he raked his front teeth against Stiles' nipple and pulled off with a wet pop. Stiles gripped tighter to Derek's hair as his fingers pulled away similarly, pinching tighter before tugging away.

"On your knees." Derek tried to move back, but Stiles kept his grip around him, shaking his head.

"Over my dead body." Derek huffed a single chuckle, instead gripping Stiles' thighs tightly, lifting them up and spreading his legs wide as he shook Stiles' hands loose from his hair. "Of course you could just use your freakish strength to just make me do what you want."

"I'm not going to." Soft kisses were pressed against the inside of his thigh, slowly progressing higher. It was almost sweet. "Now shut up."

Before Stiles could retort, Derek sucked the bit of skin his lips were pressed against, Stiles' head tipping back into the pillows on a low swear as he began to squirm. It normally wasn't his thing to be touched without doing something, but here he was, Derek clearly enjoying himself while Stiles didn't do much more than allow Derek to work his way along the human's body. But God, did it feel good, made Stiles flush and writhe almost wantonly. Feeling Derek's beard against his thighs made his toes curl into the bedsheets, the sensation pleasant enough for him to ignore his mind's complaints of how his skin would feel raw in the morning. "There's lube and condoms in the top drawer of the night table," Derek muttered in the join of Stiles' hip, sucking a livid bruise there as Stiles merely lied back and moaned. Derek cupped his sac to get his attention, a whimper leaving Stiles' throat as he looked down at Derek again. "Lube."

Stiles managed not to fuss too much as he reached over and tugged the drawer open, Derek chuckling and licking a stripe from Stiles' sac to the tip of his cock. He hummed softly before taking the tip into his mouth and sucking, Stiles covering his own mouth before an embarrassing noise escaped him. "You can't just do that," he managed to say between short breaths as Derek took more of his length into mouth and throat, short moans vibrating against Stiles' cock. He only looked up at Stiles as a response, snatching the lube from the human's hand easily and quickly opening the bottle. Stiles combed his fingers through Derek's hair and tugged his head back roughly, the werewolf's eyes fluttering shut on a groan before pulling off Stiles' manhood and licking his lips. He wanted to tug more, wanted to take his usual position of touching and making his partner fall apart, but he also wanted this, Derek taking his time in pleasuring him.

"Relax." Stiles watched as Derek pressed a lubed finger to his entrance, his rim tightening slightly against the slick invasion. He relaxed quickly enough, hips rocking as Derek's finger wiggled and thrusted gently. The first finger was quickly followed by a second and third, Stiles' movement slowing down at the increased stretch. Derek tossed the bottle of lube down and stroked Stiles abs as he spread his fingers with each thrust back into Stiles' hole. "Just one more."

Stiles nodded and moaned quietly, his hands moving to grab the bottom of the headboard as he planted his feet and thrust forward onto Derek's fingers roughly. "Hurry up. I'm human, not fragile." Chuckling, Derek leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Stiles' navel as he slipped his pinky past his rim. Stiles groaned at the intrusion, the slight burn only adding to the pleasure alongside Derek's licking and sucking around his navel. Stiles allowed him to spread his fingers a few times more before snatching up a condom and wiggling his hips away slightly. "Okay, enough or I'm just going to cum in your beard." He ripped open the packet as Derek slowly removed his fingers and sat up again.

"Maybe another time." Derek took the condom from Stiles' fingertips and rolled it onto his manhood, easily repositioning Stiles' hips onto his thighs after. Stiles watched as Derek spread a bit more lube over his length, biting his lip into a deeper shade of red. He was missing out, having not touched and sucked Derek, missing the ache that would set in his jaw by morning. He absently rubbed his jaw, nearly whining. Derek's hand gripped his hip tightly, catching Stiles' attention again. "Later. Now relax."

Later his ass. "Are you gonna sit there and make eyes at me--" He cut off with a quiet gasp, his fingers finding the headboard again as Derek's tip slipped past his sphincter and continued to push into him slowly with short thrusts. "Should probably shut up now." Stiles exhaled deeply, relaxing further into the bed as Derek filled him deeper, Derek's free hand stroking his length, tight and slow. Once Derek's hips pressed tightly against his bottom, Stiles wrapped his thighs tight around Derek's waist and clenched his walls around Derek. He responded with a short, involuntary thrust, the attempt to get deeper making Stiles' eyes cross with pleasure.

"Seriously, relax," Derek exhaled shakily, continuing to jerk Stiles' length with slow strokes. "Or this will end quick."

Stiles grunted as he lifted his upper body onto his elbows and forearms, using his grip around Derek's waist to start rolling his hips, moving back and forth on an inch or two of Derek's cock. He felt so full, he wasn't sure he could handle full thrusts without flailing from pleasure. "This is as relaxed as I'm going to get with your dick in me so just move." Before he could finish his sentence, Derek's hands gripped his hips tightly before the werewolf nearly pulled out of him and thrust back in roughly, nearly forcing Stiles further up the bed.

Stiles was seeing stars, moaning loudly around as he bit his lip in a vain attempt to muffle himself. Derek kept a rough pace of leisurely thrusts, both of them sliding slightly against the sheets. Closing his eyes, Stiles tipped his head back, toes curling behind Derek's back as he began to move his hips at Derek's pace. It was good, so very good, but it wouldn't get him off at this speed. He dropped onto his upper back again, enjoying the pit of arousal in his stomach as his cock leaked precum steadily onto his stomach and jerked up every so often.

When Derek suddenly picked up the pace, Stiles' eyes shot open, his moans picking up a higher pitch as he pushed himself back onto his elbows. He noticed Derek's stare aimed at his throat and tipped his head forward, Derek leaning in to kiss him breathless. "Harder," he managed to mutter between heated kisses, Derek quickly obliging. Stiles continued to move, following his rhythm even as his hips ached from the strain. Unexpectedly, his orgasm hit once Derek leaned back again, his hips angled higher. Stiles gasped as cum shot from his cock, landing across his abs and chest, his cock jerking several times more before his body stiffened and shuddered in pleasure.

Stiles flopped onto his back with a smile, his elbows giving out after his orgasm. It took him a moment to realise Derek was still moving, not having cum yet although his cock was throbbing inside of him. He felt an unfamiliar stretching at his entrance as Derek continued to grind against him, causing Stiles to groan and open an eye, slightly frustrated. “You should pull out.”

Derek's eyebrows drew together, panting quietly above Stiles. Stiles still wasn't sure those things weren't alive. “Why?”

“You cannot be this oblivious about your dick.” Derek thrust forward a bit too roughly as his nostrils flared in annoyance, Stiles immediately raising his hands to Derek's biceps to squeeze slightly. “You're knotting.” His reaction was clear as day, his eyes widening slightly as his brows shot up and he pulled out. The man was startled and maybe a little confused. Stiles kept a firm grip on his arms, preventing Derek from dropping Stiles flat on the bed and pulling away completely. “I didn't say run away to the opposite end of the bed like a terrified cat.” Smirking, he tugged the older man forward as he lowered his legs from Derek's arms and spread them wider. “Come here.”

Stiles bent his knees and planted his feet on the bed, giving Derek enough room to kneel between them. He looked a little disgruntled, practically glaring at his penis like it betrayed him, but didn't stiffen as Stiles moved him. Releasing his arms, Stiles grabbed the lubricant with one hand while pulling the condom off Derek's length and tossing it aside. “What are you doing?”

“You'll see. Feel, rather. Close your eyes.” Derek just stared down at him as he squirted lube into his palm and closed the bottle, raising an eyebrow as Stiles rubbed his hands together to warm the lube. “Seriously, trust me. I'm not going to surprise finger you, though these fingers were made for fingering.” He waved his fingers as Derek rolled his eyes and closed them. Stiles wrapped both of his hands around Derek's girth, one hand pressed just above his developing knot.

Derek's hips bucked forward briefly, his hands moving to grab onto the headboard. To his credit, he didn't open his eyes. “Stiles, that's not—”

“Shut up. I know what I'm doing,” he muttered softly, squeezing Derek's cock as he bucked forward into his grip, his hands relaxing slightly as he stilled. Derek made a grunt of disapproval at the relaxed grip, pulling his hips back and thrusting forward into Stiles' hands. Stiles bit his lip, watching Derek's features scrunch up before relaxing, his hips rocking fluidly. “That's it, big guy. Just like that.” He licked his lips, Derek's mouth opening as he began to pant audibly and his cock drooled precum heavily onto Stiles' stomach. “Fuck, a little harder. Push deeper.”

Derek released the headboard, falling down on his elbows above Stiles and pressing his forehead to his shoulder. Stiles started for a moment, afraid that Derek might actually get bitey and sink his teeth into his flesh, but Derek just continued to rut into Stiles' hand, shoving into his tight grip until his knot pushed in. His fingers dug into the sheets as a loud gasp escaped his lips, his knot expanding rapidly in Stiles' hand, forcing him to loosen his grip. “Fuck, I can't.”

Stiles tightened his grip around the knot, moving his hands with Derek's short thrusts. He carefully nipped Derek's earlobe, his answering snarl sending a shiver down his spine. "You don't have to... Fill me up." Wet warmth splurted onto his stomach, followed by Derek swearing into his shoulder, hips gyrating as his cock throbbed and twitched in Stiles' hands. Stiles continued to move his hands, squeezing and stroking to milk his knot despite the small moans and whimpers leaving Derek's throat. "Tell me when it's too much."

It took a few minutes for Derek to respond, the room silent beside the squelching of Stiles' hands stroking his length and the werewolf's noises, heavy panting and quiet moans against Stiles' ear. "Too much." He stammered a bit, his knees sliding against the sheets and lowering his hips slightly. Stiles kissed his cheek and smiled, gentling his grip as the swell of Derek's knot began to go down. Before he could say anything, Derek cupped his jaw in his hands and kissed him, languid and sweet, easily leaving Stiles breathless.

“Now,” Stiles began, panting softly as he released Derek's softening length. “Now, I'm exhausted and can probably sleep.” Derek laughed, pressing his face into Stiles' neck. Stiles was still impressed with his control, minus the incident with his knot. Derek pressed a kiss to his neck. "You haven't knotted before?" He stopped himself from making any noises as he felt semen drip down his sides and into the flannel.

Derek shook his head, his beard scraping against Stiles' shoulder. "No," he mumbled. "But I haven't had sex in over a year. Probably why I did."

Stilles wiped his hands on the sheets--seriously, there was no way they were sleeping on these anyway with the amount Derek just came--and tipped Derek's head back by his hair, the man making no protest. He found it very hard to believe that this broody bundle of sex on legs and living eyebrows had a hard time getting laid. Maybe the eyebrows, but still. "Seriously?"

Derek grunted quietly, shaking free of Stiles' grip in his hair. "Yes. If my legs weren't weak, I'd be in the shower right now."

Stiles scoffed slightly. His company was golden. "I'm wonderful company."

"Yes, I'm sure you're always absolutely charming." Finally, Derek sat up, Stiles nearly whimpering from the loss of weight and body heat. He didn't realise how comfortable it made him feel. "Go shower first. I'll make sure there's enough blankets in my room. Not much heat in there."

"Right, werewolf. Excess body heat." Of which he was currently missing out on. Stiles watched Derek turn and hop off the bed with ease. You would think he didn't just have the best orgasm of his life. But seeing his back made Stiles eye the two triskeles again. "Hey, Derek?"

The werewolf turned slightly, his eyes meeting Stiles'. "Yeah?"

"What's with your tattoo being the same as your brand?"

Derek smiled softly. "The tattoo was before shifter branding was instituted. My sister did it for me. It just so happens they used the same symbol for my kind." Aloof, he shrugged his shoulders and walked out the room. Stiles had a feeling there was a little more to it, but he didn't want to push. The whole concept of branding werewolves was stupid and it was possibly a bit insensitive to bring it up, but Stiles was curious. He knew one day that same curiosity would ruin something for him, but whatever.

Stiles stood and made a small noise of disgust at the caking semen on his abs. "Freaking werewolf jizz." Chuckling, Stiles walked into the joint bathroom, stretching as he moved. The sooner he showered, the sooner he slept and sleep would do him a world of good now. He didn't bother taking his time to admire everything, just hurried and cleaned himself enough to relax without itchy cum on his body.

It didn't occur to him that he'd be sleeping with Derek until he walked out the bathroom, ruffling his hair dry with a towel. It actually made him stop in the doorway of the master bedroom, eyeing the possibly oblivious werewolf. Would sleeping in the man's bed really blow over well? Derek was old enough to know better than to get territorial over Stiles, but Stiles was great at worrying, even as Derek walked past him and ruffled his hair further as he walked out the room to the bathroom. It took a moment for him to move, but Stiles eventually tossed the towel in an empty hamper and climbed into the bed, yawning loudly. He wanted to wait for Derek to come back, wanted to ask if it was really a wise idea, but the warmth from being curled under the blankets quickly took him under into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will update this fic eventually, but only when I've finished writing it. I don't think it's fair to toss out an update every once in a blue moon. (I know I hate reading unfinished things myself.) Sorry to those that have already read so far. There will be updates to the previous chapters as well, including error fixing.


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